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This morning I saw a glimmer of hope |
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In the eyes that I met at the door |
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Of separate futures and confident sutures |
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To the wounds that we have endured |
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Oh, you hate the words of war, but baby |
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Face it! That's what it's been for us |
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We were never good fighters or very good soldiers |
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But through this we are more |
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It's Victorian this embroidering ordering and |
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Sorting of memory to museum quality |
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In a box we are, we are and we're art |
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For the victims and tourists to see |
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And this victory we're part of is part and |
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Parameter of all that has come before |
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We were never good fighters or very good soldiers |
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But through this we are more |
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What's the harm in ruins, reminds us of who |
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We were in the darker times |
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In the pieces of colonies, we'll find that we follow |
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A church of our own design |
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By our best, we're remembered, baptised we surrender |
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By air, by water, by shore |
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We were never good fighters or very good soldiers |
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But through this we are more |
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We are more |
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We are more |
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We are more |
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We are more |